


Happy Birthday To You... Wherever You Are

by swanfireprincessmydear



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Dead Baelfire | Neal Cassidy, Emma Jones rears her ugly head but Emma Swan rises from her ashes I swear, Grandpa Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Grieving the death of Neal, Lots of Crying, Past Baelfire | Neal Cassidy/Emma Swan, There are some really cute Rumple & Henry moments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 15:10:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16600331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swanfireprincessmydear/pseuds/swanfireprincessmydear
Summary: It's Neal Cassidy's first birthday after his death and Emma, Henry and Rumple have some more grieving to do.





	Happy Birthday To You... Wherever You Are

The date on Emma’s phone stared back at her, a disapproving gaze so powerful she had to turn her head away. The savior’s strong façade forced its way onto her face, it wanted to help her pretend it was just another villain-fighting day in Storybrooke. The burning pain in her heart was left to sting as she shook her head, placing her phone back down onto her bedside table and wondering over to her closet. Leaving her sleeping fiancé behind, she left to go have a shower. Despite only becoming engaged no more than a week ago, Hook didn’t occupy a single one of her thoughts, especially not today. She tried to keep her past lover’s face out of her mind, his smile, his laugh, the way he would tilt his head when he was confused; a trait their son had inherited. But it was his birthday, how could she possibly not think about him. What didn’t help was the incredibly vivid dream she’d had last night of what could have been. It was far too hard to even comprehend what today was and so, as the steaming hot water hit her back, she had made a decision to treat it like a normal day; it didn’t need to be mentioned. All it would do was ruin everyone’s day, most especially Henry, who would spend the whole day in a terrible slump. That kid had enough to deal with already; his dead father’s birthday was not something he needed to worry about at the moment.

She knew she was being selfish, keeping it from her son, but spending the whole day crying didn’t seem very appealing. Justifying the lie to herself, Emma continued getting ready for work, focusing her mind to the job at hand and placing Hook’s brother’s rings around her neck. Killian was sitting up in bed by the time she returned, fixing his hook in place of his missing hand. “Morning, love. Did you sleep well?” Emma flinched at his question, feeling as though her mind had betrayed her; her dream was certainly not one he would approve of.  
“No, not really,” the pirate frowned at her cold response, she hadn’t even looked at him this morning and she was usually fully awake and smiling by this point. He had asked her expecting her to say ‘fine’ as she did every morning but clearly, today was different and he wasn’t sure why. Before he could ask her what had happened, she had already left the bedroom, presumably to either wake up Henry or cook breakfast. Hook was silently hoping she wouldn’t feed the boy one of those tart pops again; God only knew how bad they were for him.

The blonde gripped the base of her hair in frustration, she had taken off her engagement ring the night before because it had started to irritate her finger in the night, and now she couldn’t find it. As she ran her hands along the back of the couch, thinking maybe it had fallen down there, Emma snorted to herself at the irony, the night she’d taken her engagement ring off, she’d had a dream about her ex-boyfriend. After some more searching, she finally remembered she had placed it in her bathroom drawer. Sighing heavily at the already somber morning, she made her way slowly back upstairs, taking her time as if to delay the prospect of facing her soon-to-be husband. “Are you alright?” the black-haired man had spoken up the second she walked through the door, clearly unaware to the day’s significance or her loss of the ring. For the first time that morning, Emma actually looked at him and a faint smile made its way onto her face, not forced but certainly not genuine either.  
“Yeah sorry, I’m just a little stressed out is all,” Killian nodded, understanding and accepting her apology. The savior then walked into their bathroom and pulled out the draw that the ring was in.

Her eyes only briefly scanned over the brand new sparkling diamond that lay in the corner; instead, it was the battered metal of a swan keychain that caught her attention. It was hard to believe that such a simple object held some of her happiest memories and some of her worst. Reaching out to pick it up, she brushed off the thin layer of dust that had collected on it and pulled it out of the draw, running her hands over the chain and lifting it over her head. Emma placed her ring back on her finger and tucked the former keychain into her top, shaking off the idea of it being close to her heart. It didn’t matter how she felt anymore, he wasn’t coming back, not this time.

Emma went downstairs to make breakfast while Killian got up and out of bed. While she placed the pieces of toast in the toaster, she couldn’t help but feel there was something niggling at the back of her mind; there was something she knew she needed to do, and she just couldn’t remember what it was. Emma had never imagined his birthday could screw her up so much, she couldn’t even think straight. Snow White’s daughter eventually decided to just let it come back to her naturally and continued making her and her boyfriend breakfast. As she went to sit down at the dining table, she noticed that one of Henry’s scarfs was sitting on the back of the chair and she moved it off, before sitting down to eat her toast. Taking a sharp breath in, her eyes scanned over to the digital clock on the kitchen bench, which read 8:05am. Henry.

As if Gideon himself had just appeared in front of her, Emma jumped from her seat and ran upstairs. Her son was going to be pissed at her for forgetting to wake him up; he didn’t like to be rushed in the mornings. “Henry, Henry wake up. It’s really late, you’ve gotta go.” Emma only opened the young boy’s bedroom door slightly, knocking on it in an effort to get him to move. Before she knew it, he was up and dressed, giving her angry looks as he scoffed down his cereal.  
“Oh no Henry, don’t set your alarm I’ll come and wake you up,” her son’s sarcastic remark made her cringe, as those were the exact words she had said to him last night, and yet she had completely forgotten all about him. His anger died down pretty quickly, once she’d said sorry the frustrated sighing stopped, and her son got on with his morning.

Henry could tell something wasn’t right the minute his mom had woken him up; she was far too jumpy and angry for nothing to be wrong. It became really evident when Hook came downstairs, still in his pajamas and scratching his head with his good hand. This was an everyday occurrence, but for some reason today his mother had had a go at him for being ‘lazy’. The thirteen-year-old was sure he could never learn to like the pirate, let alone like living with him. He knew Hook made his mom happy, but there was too much bad history on his dad’s side of the family. No matter what, he was always going to be the mortal enemy of his Grandfather and Henry knew he could never truly look past that. Collecting up his bag and things he needed for the day, he made a dash for the door, knowing he would miss the bus if he didn’t hurry. “Hey, Henry before you go, do you mind quickly unloading the magic machine under the sink?” The pirate was busy putting on his shoes over on the couch and saw that his soon-to-be stepson was close to the kitchen. Although the young boy wanted to scream at Hook for not just letting him go, he did as he was asked, knowing it would take even longer if he chose to argue about it, “Aye, thank you, have a good day.” As soon as he was done, Henry ran for the door. He didn’t have enough time to say goodbye to his mother and was only able to yell back a quick, “No problem,” as he pushed his way through the front door.

Sprinting down the driveway and onto the street, he could see that the yellow bus was already at the bus stop. As luck had it, just as he reached the sign, his only way to school pulled out, leaving him behind with no way to get to school on time. The dark-headed boy threw his bag on the ground, making a loud slapping noise as his books hit the concrete. He fell onto the wooden bench that sat next to the stop and ran his hands through his hair. Pulling his phone from his pocket, he went to call his mother, his finger hovering over her name for a second before he decided against it. Emma was in a mood he did not want to mess with, and asking her to drive him to school was something he’d rather avoid. That only left him with one other option; he would have to run.

Picking his bag up off the ground, he let his feet carry him towards school, moving as fast as he could in order to get into less trouble. His muscles had started to hurt by the time he reached the center of town but he kept going, making his way past familiar faces to reach his destination. Unfortunately, Henry had started up a pace that would make it incredibly hard to stop if he needed to do so suddenly. So, when he approached Mr. Gold’s Pawn Shop and the glass door swung open to reveal a very depressed looking Rumpelstiltskin, it was inevitable that Henry would run straight into him.

On this particular morning, Rumple was not looking where he was going and was far too preoccupied at distracting himself with his shoes; keeping his head down low as he left his shop. However, this meant he did not see his grandson charging towards him at an unstoppable pace, and sent them both onto the ground in a tumbling mess. “I’m so sorry Grandpa, I didn’t see you,” Henry was the first to pull himself up, getting to his feet in order to offer a helping hand to his grandfather. Instead of accepting Henry’s help, Rumple pushed his hand away and got up by himself. Rumpelstiltskin sighed into the morning air, brushing the dirt off his clothes.  
“That’s quite alright Henry, where are you off to?” The older man raised his eyebrows at the young boy, quickly realizing that it was a stupid question when he saw his uniform.  
“School, how about you?” Trying to be polite, Henry asked the same question, hoping it was a quick answer as he fixed his backpack on his shoulders.  
“I was just on my way to visit your father’s grave, actually. You can come with me if you’d like; wish him a happy birthday,” although Gold noted the boy was meant to be on his way to school, he judged by the way he was running that he was going to be late anyway.  
The unexpected answer made Henry blink a few times, having to process the information he had just been given, “It’s dad’s birthday today?” Now it was Rumple’s turn to be surprised, he would’ve thought Miss Swan would have told Henry, but maybe now that she was marrying the home-wrecker, she had forgotten all about her love affair with his son.  
“Yes, it is. Don’t worry about school, you’re going to be late anyway and you can only be late once. I’ll drive you afterward if you’d like, I’m good at getting out of things,” Henry knew that he should’ve said ‘no thanks’ and kept on running towards school, but the thought of possibly learning more about his father was too good to give up. So instead, he turned to follow his Grandfather in the opposite direction.

They both walked in silence, the shallow sound of their feet hitting the pavement was enough to distract them from the void in their hearts a certain man had left behind. Both grandfather and grandson felt no need to speak for he would not hear them. The graveyard held no sadness as they walked through the gate, a small form of joy lingered in the air, but maybe that was only because that’s how Mr. Gold’s son would have wanted them to feel on his birthday. “So… how old would my father be?” The pebbles crunched underneath their feet as they walked past the rows of names, including Robin Hood, who was the newest amongst them.  
“Two hundred and eighty-nine,” a chuckle almost left Rumple’s lips as the pair moved off the path and onto the grass.  
“What about his… well, how many years has he actually aged?” Henry was happy with that answer, but he was curious to find a realistic age for his father. Rumpelstiltskin thought for a moment, before shaking his head, “Sorry Henry, I don’t know. Perhaps you could ask Miss Swan, I’m sure she’d know that.” A sort of desperation coiled up in the older man’s throat; what kind of father was he to not even know how old his son was? Henry wanted to press that further, ask him if he could at least try to figure it out, but he decided against it. He assumed it was hard enough for his Grandfather; he didn’t need to be reminded of the years with his son he missed.

As they reached the grave they were looking for, Henry was hit with a wave of unexpected grief. Until that moment, he had been able to not think about it too much, been able to gloss over the fact that his father was dead.  
“Baelfire loved you, you know?” It was the first time Henry had heard his father’s birth name in almost six months, and all he could do was nod. An empty space fell between them as they looked upon Neal Cassidy’s grave, the grey stone not even close to what the man truly deserved. Eventually, Henry was able to answer, shoving the teary lump in his throat, as far down as he could, “I know he did, and he loved you too.” A warm hand placed itself onto the young boy’s far shoulder and pulled him towards its owner, where a welcoming hug greeted him. Both of Rumpelstiltskin’s arms wrapped around his grandson and Henry returned the gesture, the surprise wearing off as soon as the warmth settled in. Tears fell from two pairs of the same eyes, and neither commented on Henry’s damp hair or Rumple’s wet shirt. A vacancy sat itself on their shoulders and made itself comfortable; it was the first time Neal would not be alive to celebrate his own birthday.

”Happy birthday dad,” Henry lifted his head to look over at the lifeless stone, as tears continued to form a path down his cheeks.  
“Happy birthday son,” Rumple held on tightly to his grandson, the last piece of Baelfire he had left, and his last chance to make things right.

Although it had almost nothing in it, Henry’s bag felt incredibly heavy on his shoulders, as if it was trying to drag him down further into the ground. He didn’t want to go to school, didn’t want to have to sit and listen to the teachers and students speak words he didn’t want to hear. He didn’t even want to see Violet. He just wanted to spend the day with his grandpa and talk about his father, but neither of his mothers would approve of that. As the pair walked from the car to the office, Henry was glad his grandfather had a knack for talking his way out of things, and that he’d agreed to help Henry out with the whole late issue. For a boy that was usually feeling all kinds of emotions, feeling nothing at all was a rather scary concept. He couldn’t help that he was sleepwalking his way to the front desk of the school office, or that he would barely remember anything once the three o’clock bell rang. Sitting down on the bench that was pushed against the far wall and watching Mr. Gold approach the lady behind the desk, he accepted his day for what it was; one big mess of nothingness.

Meanwhile, Emma had managed to find herself alone at the station. David had left to check out the clock tower, where Granny had apparently spotted Gideon. He had asked her to stay there and that he’d call her if he needed to. This gave her plenty of time to let the guilt seep in, pulling out her draw and gazing over the dream catcher and a Polaroid photo. A sickening feeling filled her stomach and crept into her mouth; she should’ve told Henry that it was Neal’s birthday, but something had stopped her. Maybe it was for the same reason she had lied about Neal in the first place; it was just too hard, too painful, and to drag Henry along in all that freezing water and mud would only make it worse. “If you were here, you’d tell me I needed to go through this with Henry,” a smile made it onto her face as she looked at the photo of Neal, it was the only one she had of him while they were together. She hadn’t smiled so naturally in a while, not even the hot tears that were splashing onto the wooden desk could melt it away. It amazed her that a simple photo could have such an impact on her.

**How The Photo Came To Be**  
There was a copper-haired woman taking photos of the trees nearby, while Emma and Neal agreed on Canada, and finally Tallahassee. Soon after their celebration, mostly of passionate kisses, the woman walked over to ask them if she could take a photo of them for her university project. Both Emma and Neal agreed and she took two of the same photo, one for her, and the other for them. The romantic photo of the two strangers she met at the park, still sits with the rest of her photos on her wall, and she sometimes still wonders about them every now and then. Not knowing they have both passed away, one literally, and the other out of heart.

The sound of David opening the door forced Emma out of her daydream and to throw everything back into the draw, closing it shut before he could see. She bent down and rubbed her forefingers against her cheeks to wipe away her tears, hiding her face from her father. “False alarm, it was nothing. Granny must be seeing things. You know, I think this whole ‘savior’ and ‘Gideon’ thing is really getting you down, perhaps you should take the day off?” David walked over to where his daughter was sitting at her desk and placed a hand on her chair. She’d been really quiet all day and he wasn’t sure why. Perhaps, she’d had a fight with Killian, or Henry, or it was something else entirely; he knew whatever it was she needed a rest. At first, Emma opened her mouth to protest, she didn’t need to be pussyfooted around, but then an idea struck her, and instead she just nodded.  
“Yeah, maybe I should take the rest of the day off. Thanks, David, see you tomorrow,” Emma quickly gathered her things and made for the door, almost forgetting her car keys in the rush. If she was quick, she may be able to convince him to cooperate.

The yellow bug that once housed a young Neal Cassidy pulled up outside Mr. Gold’s Pawn Shop, just as Rumpelstiltskin had lit a match. He didn’t notice the car’s presence, as he placed the fire over a candle to try and light it. He had chosen white icing this year; the color represented everything his son was, and everything Rumple had ever truly lost. He watched the flame glow, as it had done every year on his son’s birthday when they were apart. The only difference was, this time he wasn’t lost, he was dead, and there was no more hope of finding him. Rumple gave a quick speech under his breath, muttering a few kind words, and yet again regretting the day he let his son go, before taking a breath and blowing out the candle. The flame, much like his son, disappearing before his eyes.

Just as the smoke melted away, the bell above the door rang and Emma Swan walked into the shop. Perhaps it was out of desperation, or maybe just an outspoken thought, but as the savior approached the counter Rumple could only ask her one question, “How old would Baelfire be today?” The blonde took in a sharp breath, not expecting him to have so easily brought up Neal. Gold quickly took note of her surprised expression and decided to explain further, “I don’t know you see, with Neverland and all the other factors. I was hoping you might.” Emma consciously withheld her answer, she didn’t want Gold to know she didn’t even have to think about it, “Thirty-four. He is- was three years older than me, I celebrated his twenty-first with him.” What was probably more unexpected than Rumple’s open question was Emma’s reply. That was the most she’d ever shared about her and Neal’s relationship with anyone for a long time, apart from maybe with Henry. Rumple nodded in acknowledgment, “Thank you, now what is it you want?” Despite their oddly sobering moment, if there was one thing Gold knew about the heroes, it was that they always needed something from him.

“Well, I was actually hoping you’d come to lunch with me, maybe we could talk about Neal…” Emma stopped her sentence short, catching a glimpse of Gold’s unimpressed expression. He was scowling at her past his creased eyebrows, his mouth twisted into a tight frown. She had to pause for a second, choosing her next words carefully, “I’m sure we’d both learn something.” It was as if in a matter of seconds Mr. Gold, the pawnshop owner, had completely changed into Rumpelstiltskin, the Dark One. Did she honestly believe that he would happily skip along to this little lunch she had planned and tell her everything she wanted to know about his eldest son? Well if so, she had another thing coming.  
“I don’t want to hear anything you have to say about my son,” Emma could’ve sworn she saw the breath leave his mouth as he exhaled; his words were so cold. “What’s that suppose to mean?” It was Emma’s turn to crinkle her eyebrows and frown, feeling offended by the elder man’s remark. The sheriff tried to ignore the disappointment that lingered in her throat, covering it with a coat of anger.

“I don’t need to know about your scandalous relationship with Bae. Let alone share my personal memories with you,” Emma didn’t know what to think; he was there with her in Neal’s final moments. Surely he knew that their relationship was far more than just some teenage fling. This wasn’t about going out for lunch anymore; to Emma, this was about defending Neal’s legacy. She would not let him disregard who she was to Neal, and more importantly, who Neal was to her.  
“I’ll have you know, it was me who was comforting him when he was waking up in the middle of the night, in a cold sweat, shaking from his nightmare’s about you. I wouldn’t be surprised, if he wants nothing to do with you, after all the promises you’ve broken. I guess people never really change, you’ll always be a horrible person and a pathetic excuse for a father,” she knew her words had hit a nerve, the second they came spitting out of her mouth. They hit Rumple like a round of bullets, heading straight for his heart. Emma wasn’t sure who had overstepped the boundary first, but one thing was for certain, a line had been crossed.

“Get. Out.”  
There was nothing civil about the way Gold was talking anymore, his command was sent out like a warning. Do what I say, or else. There was a second where Emma just stood there, processing what was happening before the Dark One began to lose it, “GET OUT OF MY SHOP!” Emma took a step backward before turning her back to Mr. Gold and walking towards the door, her fists clenched tightly by her sides. Despite wanting to press further, she decided to hold her tongue to prevent things from getting any worse. Emma left the shop silently, a silence that directly contrasted the one between Rumple and Henry only a few hours prior. She would never let him win, but picking a fight now would surely end in her loss. As soon as she was sitting back in her car, she let out a frustrated scream, there was no getting anywhere with that man. He had made up his mind that she didn’t love Neal, and no matter what she did to try and prove him wrong, he would never believe her.

In her moment of madness, she drove off to the first place she could think of, the woods. She ended up near where Neal had died and got out to take a walk; she needed some time alone to think. Her feet crunched against the soft dirt and hard leaves as she walked deeper into the woods and further away from her car, their car. Yet another reminder of his oh so painful absence; not that she hadn’t dealt with that before. She was used to ignoring the piece of her chest that would ache when Neal was not around, she’d spent ten years perfecting that ability. But this time around, the sting was a lot worse. She would never admit it, never dare, but she knew that Tallahassee wouldn’t be the same if Neal wasn’t in it. The capital of Florida wasn’t a place to her, it was a promise. A promise that would never be fulfilled.

In amongst her pacing and muttering to herself, she lost track of time, only being pulled out of her trance when her alarm went off to go pick up Henry from school. On the way back to her car, a nasty knot formed itself in the pit of her stomach; she was going to have to tell Henry. It was unfair to keep the poor kid in the dark. The sheriff sighed in defeat as she dragged herself back into the driver’s seat; her day was far from over. In fact, the worst was yet to come.

Belle knew something was wrong the second she walked into the Pawn Shop, the airy silence set off her nerves, as her husband was nowhere to be seen. “Rumple? Rumple, are you here?” She was greeted with no reply, but instead a soft sniffle from the back room, followed by a shaky breath. The brunette made her way cautiously into the back room, her face automatically softening when she caught sight of Rumple. He was on the floor, back pressed against the shelf, crouched over and bawling before her eyes. “Rumple, are you okay?” Despite their current crumbling marriage, Belle hated seeing him this way; even he didn’t deserve that. Getting down on the floor, she tried her best to comfort him, sitting beside him and grabbing ahold of one of his hands. “He hates me, I know he does,” Mr. Gold tried desperately to keep his pride, but struggled to stop his voice from cracking at his own words. Belle was confused as to what he was talking about but decided to shake her head in disagreement, the last thing she wanted to do was provoke him, “Who hates you?”  
“Bae. Bae hates me.”

“Oh no, Rumple. Neal forgave you, remember? He loves you; I know he does. He doesn’t hate you,” an uncomfortable lump formed in the younger woman’s throat at the thought of her deceased stepson. She knew the father and son had a complicated past, but after his death Rumple had refused to talk about it, leaving her with blank spots and unanswered questions. He had shut down and shut her out after being freed from Zelena’s grasp, perhaps it was due to a mixture of events. One can never be the same after losing a child to death.  
Rumple nodded, the tears turning cold against his chin, Belle was only being sympathetic, “Yes he does; all I’ve done since his death is refuse to acknowledge his wishes. I’ve become the man who he ran away from. I’ve become a monster,” Rumpelstiltskin ran his hands over his eyes, ashamed of his own tears, trying to pull himself together in front of his wife.  
“You’re- you’re not a monster…”  
“I just miss my boy, he should have never died for me. I shouldn’t have let him.”

Emma sat patiently waiting for her son to come out onto the street. She had parked in the same spot that she did every afternoon, and smiled when the familiar mop of brown hair started walking towards her. Giving him a wave, she expected him to smile and wave back, being his usually bubbly self. But today he threw his backpack over his shoulder and scowled at her, before aggressively holding up his middle finger. She sat back in shock as he stormed past the bug, knowing full well where the car was. Emma couldn’t believe her son’s behavior, and unclipped her seatbelt to get out of the car, “Henry, hey! Come back here!” He didn’t, he just kept walking, ignoring his mother as she yelled for him to return. Emma let out an exasperated sigh, slamming the door of the bug and rushing down the street after Henry. Eventually, she caught up to him, grabbing ahold of his shoulder; he shrugged her off and ran, with her following close behind.

Once they reached a field close to Henry’s old castle, he stopped, finally turning around to face his mother, “Come on kid, tell me what’s wrong?”  
Henry glared up at her, as unwanted tears welled up in his eyes, “You lied to me. Again.” Henry took a deep breath, trying his best to compose himself as he spoke; this was a time to be angry, “Why didn’t you tell me it was dad’s birthday?” Emma’s mouth shook, how had he found out? No one else knew other than… Rumple. So, that’s why The Dark One was so upset with her. “Henry, I’m so sorry. I just didn’t want you to be upset all day and I-”  
“Sorry isn’t going to bring dad back.”

He was right, and Emma knew it. She took a step closer to him, only to be matched with him taking a step back; he was hurt, and that hurt her, “I was wrong kid, and I’m sorry. I should’ve told you, but I just didn’t want to spoil your day. I- I didn’t want to spoil mine.” It was selfish of her to keep it from him, in the end, just like last time, she was protecting herself rather than Henry.  
“For your day to be spoiled? WHAT FOR? You’ve moved on, found someone else. I ONLY GET ONE DAD! He was it for me, and now he’s gone,” Henry yelled and squeezed his hands into fists as tears collected under his chin, trying his best to cover them with his disappointment. “He’s gone mom, he’s gone,” there was a moment where he swore he heard his father’s voice, just for a split second, before it disappeared. Emma pulled her son into a hug as he cried, something he hadn’t done much of before. “I know, and I’d do anything to bring him back,” Emma whispered quietly into her son's ear as he sobbed, and even though she meant every word; he didn’t believe her.

Emma tried asking him about his day as they made their way back to the car, she tried talking to him about Neal on the way home, but Henry stayed silent; avoiding any eye contact with her. Once they pulled up, her son ran ahead, wanting to be the first one inside. After hearing the yellow car pull up in the driveway, Killian was busy getting snacks out of the cupboard, knowing his fiancée needed some cheering up. When his soon-to-be stepson pushed through the door, he smiled, “Hey Henry, how was your day?”  
“Oh, piss off,” the young lad threw his bag in Hook’s direction, before continuing his path up the stairs; not stopping to look back at the man replacing his father. Emma Swan walked in behind him at that exact moment, letting out a hopeless sigh as he went straight to his room; knowing she was the cause of his disobedience. “Henry? Henry, please kid. I’m sorry,” the blonde made her way up the stairs in pursuit of her son, leaving behind a confused pirate in the kitchen.

Emma pressed her forehead against the door, the twelve-year-old had locked his mother out of his room, he didn’t want to see her right now; he thought she was only pretending to care for his sake. There was an unsettling silence, and although he was still hurt, the boy had a burning question. “Do you still love him? Dad, I mean,” Henry pushed his back up against the door, partly to keep it closed should his mom pick the lock, and partly because he knew she was on the other side. The unsettling silence continued as Emma failed to answer and Henry’s tears returned, a cold, wet reminder of his irreplaceable loss.  
“Of course I do. I never stopped,” Emma’s chest grew heavy as his question loomed over her, it had been too long since she’d truly taken the time to think about Neal.

Through his own hurt, Henry’s anger towards his mother distorted his judgment. She’d lied many times about his dad before, why should now be any different?  
“I don’t believe you. You’re just saying that to make me feel better. Besides you have Hook now, why should you care,” Henry pursed his lips, trying to ignore how convincing his mother sounded; how perhaps, had Zelena been stopped in time, things may have been different.  
“Henry… please,” tears had gathered in Emma’s eyes now, her picture-perfect façade was in danger of collapsing, and she wasn’t sure she was ready to face what was behind it. Her heart grew heavy as realization dawned on her; forming cracks in the dam she had built around it. “It’s alright, you can’t help how you feel. I just want you to be happy,” Henry’s resentment towards Emma began to fade slightly at her plea; perhaps she was more broken than he thought.

Emma tried to laugh, tried to pretend her son’s words were true but she was too far-gone; there was no salvaging the pretend now. “I, I love Neal, more than I could ever love anyone; except for you. He- he was my _soul mate_ , Henry. I think you only get one of those in a lifetime. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you it was his birthday; the truth is I didn’t want to believe it. I, I don’t want to believe he’s gone. I miss him so much, and I see more of him in you every day,” for the first time since his death, Emma allowed herself to cry, allowed herself to grief the loss of her son’s father. “I talked to him, you know; on the way to the Underworld. He tried to warn me, told me he wasn’t there and that he misses you; God, he misses you, Henry. I shouldn’t of let him go, should’ve grabbed him while I could, found some way to bring him back but I just- now I have to spend forever missing him,” Emma couldn’t stop the flow of emotions as they tumbled out of her, finally being released from their crowded cage. Henry smiled against the pain at Emma’s words, finding happiness anywhere he could. Spinning around, he opened the door, pulling her into a comforting embrace, as the two grieved. “We can miss him together,” Henry held her tightly as the pair swayed from side to side, and Emma nodded, not ever wanting to let him go.  
“Yeah, I’d like that.”

A cold hard tombstone stood in the place of her lost lover, after patching things over with Henry the savior had decided to pay a visit to Neal Cassidy’s grave. Sitting down in front of it, she crossed her legs and looked upon his name. Emma tried to think of words to say but they just wouldn’t come, she thought of a lost opportunity with his father and how much she truly would have appreciated a lunch with Gold. Instead, he was rude to her, spit on the relationship she had had with Neal and still had the nerve to continue rampaging around town as the exact man Neal had hated him for becoming. She hadn’t been perfect but she sure as hell didn’t deserve to be treated like that. Neal meant more to her than Gold would ever have the decency to accept and for that, he would pay a price. “You know Neal, I meant what I said to Henry. You were my soul mate, my person, and I am terrified of a life without you. I guess a part of me always hoped that you would come back, that you would come searching for me but I never expected to lose you like this. I know you feel the same way about me and that’s how I know you’ll forgive me for what I’m about to do. I’m sorry Neal, but by tomorrow your father will know exactly what you were to me,” it must’ve looked a little strange when the savior placed a hesitant kiss onto the stone but to her, it felt right. She hid her pain with anger, that’s what she had always done. This time was no exception.

Jumping back into the stolen car, Emma pulled out a pen and paper and started writing a very specific letter to Gold. She smirked to herself as she described in explicit detail the kinds of things her and his son would get up to during their time together. The former Dark One took extra care in mentioning the bright yellow car that she drove around in. Just so that every time he looked at it, he had to think about it. For kicks she shamelessly included his twenty-first birthday, she couldn’t help herself having mentioned the occasion to him beforehand. Without a second to think through what she was doing, she sealed it up in an envelope, wrote ‘Mr. Gold’ on the front and drove in the direction of the Pawnshop owner’s house.

The Volkswagen pulled up around the corner from Rumple’s house and a brash Emma Swan jumped out and raced towards the mansion, it was nearing 5:30pm, which was usually when he would return home. Placing the letter in his letterbox, she turned to leave and ran back down the street towards her car. As she caught sight of the bright yellow car that she once shared with Neal Cassidy, her heart sank. The realization of the damage that her letter could cause hit her in full force and the weight of her decision became too much to bear. Deep down she knew the gravity of the situation and that she couldn’t cover up her grief with her dislike of his father. Revenge wouldn’t bring back Neal. “This isn’t me,” the woman in the red jacket turned her head to face the letterbox from which she’d come. She still had time to fix things; Gold didn’t have to read it.

That was when she spotted him, fixating himself on his shoes as he walked down the street towards his house. He hadn’t seen her but now it was too late, there was no time to turn back. In a hurry, Emma whipped her head around to continue her fast pace towards the car but instead heard the splitting crack of metal catching on a tree branch. She only had a second to look towards the ground, when she heard the soft bounce of a swan keychain tumble and fall into the nearby gutter. “No… no,” her last piece of Neal washed away with the water. Without a moment to pay attention to her crippling heart, she made the decision to keep running, she couldn’t risk Gold seeing her so close to his house. He would think she was trying to break in and incriminate him.

She managed to reach her car and drive away before he took any notice of her presence. Emma untangled the broken chain from the rings that hung from her neck, the loss of a swan playing on her mind.

Mr. Gold reached his empty mansion at approximately 5:35pm, collected his mail and retreated back inside his home. There was no one else there.  
Sitting down on a lounge chair by the unlit fire he waved his hand and a fire began burning. Once comfortable, he began to sort through his mail, surprised to see his name scribbled lazily on one of the envelopes. Curiosity got the better of him and he decided to open that one first. It took him a few minutes to recognize the handwriting and only a few more to fully understand the contents of the letter. A nasty knot coiled up in his stomach as he gathered the intent of Miss Swan in sending such a thing. He refused to read the rest and glanced furiously at the signature down the bottom. She had signed it proudly; it disgusted him. The edges of the letter began to curl as his magic burnt it in rage; taking a few deep breaths he stopped himself deciding the letter could be used as leverage against the Sherriff. He just needed a way to plaster it all over Storybrooke.

It was dark by the time he reached his shop. After entering he calmly began opening up draws. Disappointed when his first few guesses on where he’d kept it where wrong. He made sure to hold the letter tightly in his hand as he searched; Emma wasn’t getting away with defacing his son’s name like that. “Surely it must be around here somewhere,” he stopped looking when he accidentally knocked something to the ground and it rolled towards the slightly ajar door, just heavy enough to close it completely and set off the little bell that hung from the doorframe. It was Baelfire’s old ball.

Walking over to pick it up, a thick lump formed in his throat and the forgotten letter fell to the floor. He held up the small ball with both hands and saw the image of a young innocent boy trying his best to play catch alone. “Bae… my boy… I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry,” he dropped to his knees in the doorway, letting his grief take over him. His shoulder hit the cold wood of his shop floor as loud sobs began to echo off the walls. The letter Miss Swan had sent him burnt up in flames, he couldn’t bear the thought of hurting his son again; he knew to hurt her would inevitably hurt Bae too. Rumple clutched the ball in his hands as tears dripped from his nose and created a small puddle on the floor next to him. He spent the night wailing the loss of his son, unable to move from his paralyzed position and unable to let go of a small round ball.

Henry tried his best to wipe the tearstains from his father’s picture in his storybook, but the water had long since ruined the page. The boy had locked himself in his room the second his mother had gone to visit Neal’s grave. Sitting cross-legged on his bed, he had been flicking through his ‘Once Upon a Time’ book only to find a drawing of his late father. He ferociously rubbed his sleeve against the soaked paper in hopes a young Baelfire’s face would return but the page only began flaking against his jersey and soon his dad’s face was unrecognizable. In a moment of frustration, he slammed the book shut and threw it across the room, watching as it dented his far wall and collapsed onto the floor. “You didn’t deserve any of this, Dad,” Henry rubbed his sleeves against his cheeks in an attempt to dry them, however, it only stuck the soaked pieces of paper to his face. Yet another silence loomed over the young Author that day, but this one was much more empty than the last. In the end, there was no hope left. Good had lost, and death had won.

The yellow bug came to an abrupt halt as it passed the town line, pulling over to the side of the road to accommodate a woman on the verge of a breakdown. She had to leave town, just for the moment. She could no longer stand to be in the same place where she lost Neal, or anywhere near it. Despite the regret of sending Rumple the letter still looming, she felt there had grown an unspoken agreement between the two. She felt as though he had forgiven her. Lifting a hand to her chest, the icy gold rings meet her touch instead of the welcoming pendant she had been used to for so many years. A cold reminder of what she had lost. With a startling scream, Emma ripped the rings from her neck and hurled them forward with an alarming force; the front window cracked and her almost forgotten dream of Tallahassee splintered into vague shards of a nonexistent future. She was left with a numbing emptiness that could never be filled. Placing her head against the steering wheel, she let her body convulse in time with her sobs, each of her heavy tears landing with a thump into her lap.

_“That’s how you know you’ve really got a home. Because when you leave it, there’s this feeling that you can’t shake. You just miss it.”_

Neal was their home.  
Now without him, they’ll always be almost home.


End file.
